Ties That Bind (11 page)

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Authors: Cindy Woodsmall

BOOK: Ties That Bind
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“I'll try to make sense, but our time before the agent arrives is so limited.”

“Then I will tell her we need to reschedule.”

The fact that anything Ariana had to say came ahead of keeping the appointment with the real-estate agent told her a lot. He cared more about her than about how breaking the appointment would look to the agent. Rudy seemed like a perfect mixture of strength and kindness. Looking at him in contrast to Quill, she realized how very likable her beau was. Steady and caring.

What was wrong with Quill anyway? First he left, taking Frieda, and now he intended to take her sister—all the while acting as if Ariana's feelings and well-being mattered. How had she ever been so foolish as to care for him?

Not married.
Quill would never know how disgusted she was to learn he was single. It was evidence of just how deep his deceit went. He'd never said directly that he intended to marry Frieda, but it was implied. If Ariana had known the two hadn't married, she probably would've helped the leaders try to find her.

Rudy squeezed her hands gently. “Are you…tired of seeing me?”

“What?” She blinked, coming back to herself. “No. Just the opposite.”


Gut.
I like your shocked response and absolute firmness about it.” He clutched his chest, sighing relief. “Denki.” He meant his thank-you to be humorous, but nothing was the least bit funny right now.

He took her hands again, waiting on her to say something. When she had said she didn't want to talk about what took place that rainy night at Berta's, he'd accepted it. When he picked her up earlier today and she was seething with anger, he left her alone while she smoldered in silence. Was he as perfect for her as he seemed?

He motioned to the curb, and they sat down.

She wrapped her arms around her bent legs, thinking back on dozens of memories. Her first memory of Quill was when she was five or six, and he had been kind and patient with her, treating her like a real person rather than the pesky little sister of his friend Mark. When she struggled to learn to write, Quill was encouraging, and he injected humor, making her realize it wasn't the end of the world to be unable to hold a pencil correctly. She had frightened easily in those days, and he seemed able to stare down a rattlesnake…and make
it
crawl off. But despite his deceitful nature, she was sure he'd benefited from their relationship too. He used to get balled up inside himself with thoughts and feelings, and she was able to help him sort out how he felt and why.

When she was twelve, she'd told her Mamm that she intended to marry Quill Schlabach, and she never wavered in that thinking until the day he disappeared with Frieda.

No wonder she didn't want to tell Rudy. It was embarrassing how foolish she'd been when it came to Quill. Sometimes in the still of the night when she woke, she recalled her feelings for him so clearly it seemed as if some part of them still existed. But they didn't.

“Remember once asking me who my first crush was?”

“Ya.”

“Well…” She began sharing, telling as little as she knew how and yet enough for the journey to make sense.

Rudy intertwined his fingers with hers. “He's returned for your sister?”

The way he asked made Quill sound like a monster from the deep.

“Ya.”

“You should use the church leaders more. It's what they are here to do—protect us from those who want to cause division and strife. You can't continue to protect him.”

“I'm not trying to protect
him.
Berta needs me to keep everything quiet. If the church leaders realize he's been visiting all these years, she'll be held accountable. All I have to do is find a way to change Susie's mind about leaving, and nothing Quill has done so far matters.”

“I get what you want to do, but I see a lot of caution flags. You're taking on responsibilities that aren't yours. Why do you feel it's your place to protect and take care of Berta? Why are you trying to build a life Susie is willing to stay in?”

“Would you have done any less?”

“Everyone has to do less than you aim to, Ari. It's not good to run around trying to make everything okay for everyone else.”

“But…God asks us to carry one another's burdens. Like with Berta and Susie.”

He didn't look convinced, but he nodded. “Even if by some miracle you get this restaurant and Susie agrees to stay because of it, how long before she regrets giving her word? Jobs get old quickly. What if you go into debt up to your ears trying to open this restaurant before you're financially ready, and then she decides in a few months that she still wants to leave? Are you aware that restaurants are the number-one small business to go under?”

Maybe she was too wrung out from her earlier encounter with Quill, but instead of finding words to share how she felt, she leaned her head on his shoulder. “I have to try. Please tell me you understand that I have to try.”

He put his arm around her shoulders and sighed. “Sure, I understand. I don't necessarily agree, but it takes someone like you to care this much about a little sister. Wherever and whenever you need help, I want to be at your side. I wish I could help financially, and maybe I can later on, but right now my money is tied up in the family business back home.”

Even after growing up poor, she was just now beginning to understand how hard money was to come by. “I just appreciate that you understand my position.”

“I get it.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Any idea how you'll come up with enough money to go to closing?”

“Marry someone with money?”

He chuckled and rubbed her shoulder. “I can see why the idea might momentarily sound appealing.”

She sighed. “You mean the money would be attached to a real person?”

“Afraid so.”

They shared a laugh, and she remained snuggled under his arm. “Is begging door to door an option?”

He smiled down at her. “Maybe we should give it a little more thought. Any siblings besides Abram who might be willing to help?”

“Mark and Susie are the only others who earn money and don't have children, but they pooled their money to buy a horse and carriage for Mamm and Daed a year ago.”

Rudy whistled. “That set them back.”

“Ya, I imagine they don't have a thousand dollars between them.”

“There will be a Labor Day event here in town. If we set up a booth, you could make some money over that long weekend.”

“Ya. Maybe so. I would need to check into the specifics of permits and such.”

The real-estate agent pulled her shiny red car into a parking space near them and got out. The thirty-something woman wore a navy-blue dress that molded to her pregnant body. She carried a folder of papers. “So, Ariana, do you have some good news for me today?”

Ariana swallowed hard while standing up. “I was hoping you could renegotiate exactly what it will take for me to open this shop. Maybe I could rent it for a while before needing the full twenty percent to go to closing. See, if I can use the money I've saved to get it operational, I can make money. Then I can buy the place.”

“I don't think we're seeing this in the same light.” She ran her manicured hands over her belly. “Mrs. McCormick, the owner, gave you a verbal agreement, one that I didn't think was advisable. She wants you to have this place, and if it were solely up to her, she'd be more flexible. But her children are pushing me to find a serious buyer with the money to go to closing. And there are some interested parties. You and Mrs. McCormick have a special bond since you cleaned her house and cooked for her for years before she moved into the retirement home. She would give you the moon if she could, but I think you should release her from the verbal agreement.”

The
clippety-clop
of a horse caught Ariana's attention. Susie waved as she pulled the rig across several parking spaces to find enough room for it.

Ariana's mouth was dry. This wasn't the meeting she'd been hoping for. Rudy knew business. Couldn't he think of an alternative to buy Ariana some time? She studied him, waiting for him to rescue her with some sort of plan, but he shrugged.

Ariana held the key firmly in the palm of her hand. “I'm sorry it's inconvenient for Lila's children, but she said she would give me until October first.”

The agent nodded, looking more perturbed than disappointed. “If that's how you feel, I'll let the family know. But I can assure you that you won't be given one day more.” She headed for her car.

“Hey.” Susie hopped down. “Why such hush-hush stuff about meeting you here?”

While Rudy tethered Susie's horse, Ariana motioned for her sister to come with her. “I think it's time you see my dream. You may fall in love with it.” Ariana unlocked the door and showed her through the old building. Dust hung in the air, making the room look like fog bathed in sunlight. Strange and yet beautiful. She prayed for the right words. “We could make it a success, Susie, and the rest of the family could work here as money from the café and their schedules allow. Just think, the two of us as the owners of a thriving café in town.” Would Susie like this old building? Or would she find fault where Ariana saw beauty in the jagged brick walls, slanted wood floors, and filth. “It needs elbow grease.”

“Oh, you poor, delusional thing.” Susie laughed. “That doesn't begin to cover all it needs.” She looked skeptical, but her interest seemed piqued. After years of taking care of difficult employers, Susie had to be a little intrigued with the idea of owning a café. In addition, being the poorest family around was embarrassing, and this place could change that for the whole family. But her little sister was a smart cookie, and she would know that this plan would be really labor intensive. Would its potential be enough to keep her from leaving?

Susie pointed to the wide stairs with a beautiful banister. “So where do the steps lead?”

“To sort of a storage-room loft.”

Susie's eyes lit up. “As in…could it be a place for me to sleep? You know, a girl's own bedroom without the need to share it with her older and younger sisters?” She grabbed Ariana's hand and ran up the stairs.

The space was filled with old boxes, and Ariana had calculated it was the only place to store nonrefrigerated supplies for the café. Still…

“I don't have all the financing lined up, but if I can buy the café and if you want this space as your room, it's yours.”

“You mean you wouldn't claim this as your own?”

“Not if you were willing to stay…Amish.” Ariana wouldn't add any other stipulation, like the need to work in the café or keep the loft decently straight. She wanted only one promise from her sister.

Susie nibbled on her bottom lip, looking thoughtful. “Stay Amish…” She rolled the words slowly off her tongue before weaving between the boxes and walking to the railing that overlooked the café. “The way the loft is built, no one has a view from below, but it still doesn't offer a lot of privacy.”

“If I get the place, I intend to open around seven. But we'll close at two in the afternoon. After we prep for the next day, the whole building will be as private as you like.”

Susie waggled her brows in unison, almost fluttering them. “Now this is worth talking about. You're a good big sister and all, but, oh, what I would do for a room of my own. Do you think Daed would let me live here?”

Having a little independence from the family was much more important to Susie than Ariana had realized. How had they shared a room all these years without discussing something this critical to her little sister?

Ariana's insides were quivering. “I think we could talk Daed into it if you agreed to things like a curfew and no boys without supervision, and you still attending church meetings.”

“A place of my own and a café.” She grinned. “The Brenneman Brew.”

Ariana laughed, and tears of hope tried to break free. “Well, I'm not quite sure about that name. I know you mean coffee, but there's a beer-brewing place a few blocks from here.”

“Are you sure I meant coffee?” Susie staggered as if she'd been drinking.

“Susie,” Ariana corrected, suddenly sounding like their mother. No wonder her feisty sister was desperate for a room away from Ariana.

“Okay, fine. I'm sure the idea of brewing one's own beer is overrated anyway. Hmm. What about Brennemans' Perks?”

“Not bad.” Ariana dragged her fingers across the top of a filthy box. “So…what do you think?”

Susie looked around, contemplating the question.

Ariana was offering a plan she might not be able to follow through on, but there had to be a solution concerning the money. God had planted the desire to save for this café in Ariana and Abram years ago. Then He let Ariana know that Susie was making plans to leave, giving Ariana an opportunity to change her mind. If Susie agreed to stay, surely God would show Ariana how to earn the money.

Susie thrust out her hand. “We have a deal!”

Ariana ran toward her sister, tripping over a box before she engulfed Susie in a hug. “Perfect!”

“Ari,” her sister rasped, “Susie can't breathe.”

Ariana released her. “Oh, sorry.” Ariana wrapped her arm around Susie's shoulders, and they went down the steps.

Now all Ariana had ahead was the simple trick of pulling thousands of dollars out of a hat.

T
he faint smell of exhaust permeated the inside of the work van as Abram looked out the window on the way home from work. The miles of pastureland and narrow two-lane roads seemed to go on forever. Dozing in the van was as impossible as sleeping at night had been lately. There was too much weirdness happening inside his home. He understood Ariana's anxiety concerning Quill's hint that he would take one of their siblings, but other things were bothering him. Whispers between his parents. Tears his Mamm brushed away, thinking no one noticed. Mamm hadn't been much of a crier until recently.

In his twenty years of life, he'd never been confused by the happenings in his household. He'd often been overwhelmed by the activity and the vast amount of energy and emotions coming from his parents and nine siblings, but he'd never been perplexed.

Added to those things, it was the third of September. Ariana now had twenty-seven days to earn about $5,500. Time was slipping through their hands, and Abram was taking as much overtime as he could get. Ariana could hardly manage her regular housecleaning jobs because of Salome's constant neediness. It irked Abram, but he knew better than to get between sisters.

The van passed a woman standing in a moving cart attached to a horse. He couldn't see who it was. She was bent over, reaching as far as she could toward the horse, and Abram immediately knew she was having trouble with the rig. A small cart like that was as springy as a frightened rabbit. And standing as she was, if she hit one small rock or tiny bump in the road, she would sail through the air and land with a thud. He knew of a man some ten years ago who was in a similar situation and had broken his back because of it. If the horse and cart were threatening to separate, she should bring the rig to a halt before trying to address the issue. But if a stave had worked its way free, she might be having difficulty getting stopped.

Abram tapped Mr. Carver on the shoulder. “Stop the van.”

Mr. Carver looked in his rearview mirror. “Are you sure it's necessary? She looks to have it under control.”

The two other Amish men in the van sat upright, paying attention for the first time in many miles. “What's up?”

“We're needed…now.” Abram pointed, and while he grabbed an apple out of his lunchbox, his two Amish coworkers looked through the back window of the van. Pretty sure the issue was with breeching and the buckles on the trace lines, Abram grabbed his tool belt.

“Abram's right. Let us out.”

Mr. Carver pressed the brakes without another question, and they began to slow. The woman and rig were already several hundred feet behind them but were coming their way at a quick pace.

Mr. Carver brought the vehicle to a complete stop. “I'll give you guys a few minutes, but I'm not waiting for long. I'm tired, and I'm hungry.”

Abram scurried out of the van. J. B. and Benny were right behind him. While heading for the far side of the road, Abram strapped on his tool belt and tucked the apple inside it, freeing his hands so he could catch the horse if he broke from his constraints.

“What's the plan?” Benny asked, taking long strides with his short legs. The man carried an extra hundred pounds, and he wouldn't be much help catching up with the rig.

“J. B., you try to get in the cart with her. If things go awry, help her get out. Benny, watch for oncoming vehicles. Slow them and warn us. I'll aim to stop the horse.”

“Hey.” J. B. trotted after Abram. “Is that Cilla and Barbie?”

Abram hoped it wasn't Barbie, but another look said it was.

Great. Just what he needed to add more confusion to his life—a woman he didn't understand. So what were Barbie and her younger sister Cilla doing out here anyway? They were in the boonies, and Cilla's health was too fragile to chance her getting caught in a situation like this.

He held up the apple, hoping the horse would catch a whiff and want to stop. Now that the horse was closer, Abram thought he could see several issues and why Barbie was standing to address the problem. Although the horse was approaching at a speedy trot, it appeared a tug had broken and a stave had flopped free. With the lightweight cart bouncing all over the place, if Barbie stopped in the wrong way, the horse could end up impaled on the stave.

“Easy, boy.”

For the first time Barbie looked up from her efforts with the trace lines. Relief eased the tension on her face, and the sweet, welcoming smile he'd come to know over the last few months, the one that had encouraged him to ask her out, graced her lips.

Women. There was simply no way for someone like Abram to understand them, even though he had a twin sister. One might think that would give him an edge, and maybe it would someday, but evidently it wouldn't do so with the one woman who counted most.

Not wanting to startle the horse by speaking loud enough for Barbie to hear him, he motioned toward J. B., who was still running toward the cart. Abram showed the apple to Barbie before he motioned to the horse. She nodded and pointed to the trace line. He could only assume a trace line had broken, but what about the harness? Her family, like his, struggled financially, which meant things like harnesses weren't replaced or repaired as often as needed.

The horse must've noticed the apple because he planted his two front hoofs firm for a moment, trying to come to a halt. He then whinnied as if in pain and continued onward. Abram's best guess was the stave had jabbed him as he tried to stop, so Abram grabbed the dangling stave and held on to it with all he had, knowing what was about to happen.

Barbie pulled back on the lines. “Whoa!”

Abram bore the brunt of the pressure on the stave as the horse came to a halt. Abram's heart pounded mercilessly, and he'd broken out in a sweat, but as easy as that, the dangerous situation was resolved. He panted while patting the horse and regaining his breath. It was odd how a situation could be dangerous one moment and only a minor inconvenience the next.

Unfortunately, now came the really tricky part—facing Barbie. Maybe he was feeling a bit dramatic because his adrenaline was running pretty high, but after preventing the horse from being speared by the stave, Abram felt as if a sharp object might impale him. He'd admired her from afar for a couple of years, and it had been bad enough that she had come to his home to end the relationship before the first date.

Cilla stood, a bright grin on her face as she leaned out to see him. “Denki, Abram.”


Gern gschehne,
Cilla.”

Benny hurried over to them, and while he and J. B. checked on Barbie and Cilla, Abram walked from the side of the horse to its front, patting its neck reassuringly before using his pocketknife to slice the apple and feed the fruit to the horse.

“Denki.” Barbie was out of breath. “I didn't know what I was going to do.”

“You can thank Abram. We didn't even see you,” Benny said.

Abram kept his focus on the horse, but he could see that Barbie was looking at him.

“Denki, Abram.”

Abram gave the worn-out harness a once-over. “Not a problem.” But this rigging should've been retired years ago.

“Hey!” Mr. Carver hung his arm out the window. “How much longer?”

J. B. moved toward Abram. “Can you fix this on your own and get her to her place? It's not more than a one-man job, and if it's all the same to you, I think we'll go on home.”

Abram agreed that it required only one of them, but did it have to be him?

On second thought he knew the other three men had wives and children waiting for them. With Ariana busy trying to earn money so she could afford the café, Abram was sure no one would mind or feel unsettled because he wasn't home on time. “Sure.” He checked a pocket of his tool belt to verify he had his leather hole punch. Clearly the harness would need repairs. “I need some leather strips from the van, and then you can go.”

“Sure thing.” J. B. turned to Benny. “Abram can handle this.”

While J. B. and Benny spoke to Barbie, Abram went to the van and grabbed the only leather strap left in the scrap box. He hoped this would be enough if he needed to add an extender or replace a segment to mend the harness. The Amish men he knew were as prepared to deal with faulty harnesses and issues with horses as any Englisch mechanic was to work on a car.

The men got in the van and waved as they pulled off. Having just gotten the strip of leather from the van, Abram was on the side of the road where the van had been. Once they were gone, he couldn't have been more uncomfortable if he had been wearing only a towel after getting out of a shower.

Barbie watched him. Cilla too, but she didn't rattle him. He drew a deep breath before crossing the road. He could do this. It was certainly easier than the awkward misery of trying to strike up a conversation after a singing. Once the singing was over and the separation between the boys and girls ended, the young people would mingle. The chaperones, which meant family, neighbors, and church leaders—a few of whom were waiting for something embarrassing to happen so they would have stories to talk about—watched like hawks as the young people ate from the spread of treats they'd provided. If being shy and uncomfortable around girls wasn't difficult enough, having an audience of onlooking parents added to the misery.

Eighteen-year-old Cilla started to step out of the cart, but Barbie grabbed her arm and shook her head. Cilla frowned but took a seat beside her older sister. Both remained in the cart, sitting on the bench and observing Abram as he went to the harness to assess what needed to be done first and how. The air around them was stifling with thoughts no one voiced. The only one seemingly at ease and content to be there was the horse, which continued to chomp on the apple.

“Well, there's good news.” Abram noted that the breeching, the part that went around the horse's rump, needed repairing before the tug, and then he would have to add an extender to the trace lines. What a jumbled mess of tattered leather. “It's a good thing this didn't happen to you at night or while it was raining.”

“True.” Barbie's singular word sounded forced.

He didn't look at her. It would only make it harder not to be lured into longing for a real and deep relationship with her.
Just be yourself and stick to the job.
Sounded easy enough, so why was his heart racing like mad? “I'll have it fixed within the hour, but it would be best if you didn't use this harness again.”

“It was my fault,” Cilla said. “When I hitched the horse, I wasn't paying attention. I was in a hurry, and now I've just made things worse.”

Abram got the leather hole punch out of his tool belt and added fresh holes to the leather patch. “Since you're in a hurry, if you give me your word you won't use this harness again, I'll rig it together and get you two on your way as soon as possible.”

“If I give you my word,” Barbie said, “would you trust it? I mean, after, you know…”

“I'm sure you had good reasons to call off our date.”

He heard the two sisters whispering, and Cilla had a scolding tone, but that's all he could tell.

“I…I think I did.” Her voice wavered. It had to be from the stress of what had just happened.

He wanted to look her in the eye and ask what the reason was, but his desire to understand wasn't even close to the most important thing going on in his life. “You're safe, Barbie. Just take a few moments to relax and let that sink in.” Using a metal brad from his tool belt, he connected the old leather of the breeching to a piece of the new leather.

“Ya, we are. Thanks to you,” Cilla said.

He couldn't keep from looking up. Cilla was relaxed against the bench seat, all smiles. Barbie had her forehead buried in her hand, hiding the rest of her face. Surely there was something he could say to make her feel better. “Knock, knock.”

Cilla laughed, and Barbie looked up, bewildered.

He chuckled and shrugged before trying again. “Knock, knock.”

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